1000 Years Later, Even My Weakest Follower Has Become A Demon King Novel - Chapter 8

“Why didn’t you just kill my contractor?”

Psoriasis looked at the man in front of him and asked.

It was exposed to the range of the Frozen Wasteland, and its body was covered in a thin layer of frost. The fine ice shards dancing in the storm constantly sliced open gashes in its flesh, but it ignored them completely.

“If he’s killed, your anchor to Currere will be gone. Didn’t I say so? I don’t want you to return to the Moon Realm early.”

“Why?”

Zhou Mu smiled and waved Withering Cold in his hand. With a flash of lightning, a shadowy portal opened, and an ice crystal giant comparable to the Stumbling Demon lumbered out.

Frost Soul

“Because I still have some things to test. Moreover, I’ve said it before…”

Zhou Mu didn’t continue. He only waved his hand to get the Frost Soul to step forward, and the tall ice crystal giant swung its heavy fist at Psoriasis.

Bang!

Stumbling Demon didn’t dodge or parry, allowing the other party’s fist to smash into him. At the same time, he brandished his rusty dagger and struck the Frost Soul.

Crack!

Both parties attacked without any regard for defense, but the Soul’s seemingly heavy fist didn’t even make Psoriasis tremble. Instead, its rusty blade sliced off a large chunk of ice from the other party.

Psoriasis grinned hideously, and the green light on its rusty dagger shone brightly as it fought the Soul.

Alright, let’s begin with Apprentice-level damage spells.

Zhou Mu gently tapped the Withering Cold and began a new round of tests.

The Stumbling Demon and the Frost Soul were like two tumblers. They punched and stabbed each other with great vigor, but as tank characters with thick skin, the outcome of the battle couldn’t be determined quickly just based on their damage output.

Another strike shattered a large piece of ice. Before Psoriasis could retract his dagger, several whistling wind blades struck its body, instantly slicing open several bone-deep gashes.

Very good, continue…

The magic chanter finally began to use offensive spells.

Not only did Psoriasis not panic, but it also felt delighted.

The gnarly wound caused by the wind blade began to wriggle, and dense mycelium appeared on both sides of the wound. Most of it connected to each other to heal the wound, and some of the mycelium extended out of his body.

The wound healed at a visible speed while the mycelium that extended out of its body grew and expanded. Then, it silently exploded and spewed out colorful spore clouds.

The brightly-colored malady lingered around Psoriasis as a spore cloud, and the Frost Soul—which had been exchanging blows with it—began to slow down.

Another strike landed on the Soul, but this time, it didn’t just shatter more ice.

Several cracks extended from the spot where Psoriasis struck, and then they cracked like a spiderweb. The Frost Soul was reduced to pieces from the strike.

Bright fungi crawled between the shards.

The Lady of Starvation’s blessing.

Using flesh and blood as bait gave birth to a corrupted newborn.

After shattering the Frost Soul, Psoriasis planned on turning around and finishing off the magic chanter. Unexpectedly, the moment it turned around, a ball of dazzling lightning struck it.

“Urgh…”

Psoriasis shook its head. Its chest was charred by the lightning, but at the same time, the abnormally lush lifeform began to squirm again.

Thicker spore clouds filled its surroundings and spread further. Not far away, a Frost Soul that was taller than before strode over.

There’s more?

Psoriasis spat out a mouthful of dark-green saliva on the ground and charged forward with its dagger.

“Okay, let’s see how long you can last.”

…

Liliana couldn’t understand what was happening.

Summoning, Storm, Lightning, Fire, Frost, Shadow, Undead, Life, Illusion…

She numbly counted how many types of spells that person had used. The Astral Laws stipulated that everyone could only study three spells at most, but it was like a joke to him.

Even if he was a heretical mage, he shouldn’t be able to use spells of so many types… It had to be known that even the heretic who started the Withering Catastrophe 50 years ago had only studied five spell systems.

Moreover, that wasn’t all…

Liliana studied at Blackwater Province’s Offa University. Although her talent was mediocre and she was only at the level of an Apprentice, she was in the most authoritative mage school in Blackwater Province. She had extremely solid theoretical knowledge. It could be said that she knew the theories and effects of common spells among the 9 levels and 13 series stipulated in the Astral Laws.

However, she had never seen or heard of at least two-thirds of the dozen spells that person had used. That wasn’t all; the effects of those spells were also unimaginable, directly challenging her understanding of the essence of magic.

“From the mana fluctuations, the illusory blade that extended from his staff looks like an Illusion spell…”

She murmured to herself.

Since it was an Illusion spell, why could it chop off the arm of the Lunar Monster?

Was her understanding of Illusion spells fundamentally wrong?

The battle continued as more and more spells she didn’t understand were cast from that person’s hands.

As the monster’s injuries gradually deepened, the mist emitted from its body became thicker, and the range spread further and further.

Be it the birds perched on the branches, the squirrels crawling in the forest, or the insects in the soil, any lifeform that came into contact with the mist began to twitch and tumble. Soon, they struggled to their deaths.

On their corpses, dense mycelium grew out of every aperture before continuing to expand and explode, releasing new mist.

Liliana saw it clearly. Just as she was about to escape the range of the mist in horror, the Sunbird pendant that the person had wanted her to wear lit up slightly, and a faint golden barrier appeared around her.

The mist instantly dissipated after coming into contact with the barrier, leaving behind a stench that resembled burning feathers.

Liliana subconsciously touched the ancient pendant on her chest and looked up at the battlefield not far away.

Over there, the colorful mist was so thick that one couldn’t see what was happening inside. Only the constant sounds of combat and the occasional flashes of spells proved that the battle was still ongoing.

…

Psoriasis roared and shattered an unknown number of Frost Souls before looking at the magic chanter. This time, the other party finally didn’t summon a new Frost Soul.

There was no intact spot on Psoriasis’s body, but under the Lady of Starvation’s blessing, all its injuries quickly healed. Even the hand that was previously severed gradually grew out a deformed limb that was purely made of mycelium.

More and more mycelium extended out of its body, and endless spore mist spewed out like ignited smoke.

Psoriasis slowly approached the person. The other party didn’t summon a new meat shield or use any spells to attack. He just stood there quietly.

It was probably because his mana was depleted, so its victory was at hand.

A magic chanter was considered defeated when they ran out of mana.

To be honest, this battle was harrowing. There were a few times when it was just short of being completely exiled by the magic chanter.

Fortunately, the other party happened to stop attacking a few times and missed the opportunity to kill it.

It was also thanks to him that the Lady of Starvation’s blessing was maximized through its constant injuries and rebirth. Innumerable curses surged out of its wounds, turning the surroundings into a true land of death.

“I have to say, I’m quite impressed with you. As a mortal, your flesh and blood haven’t been devoured by such a dense curse.”

Psoriasis stopped three steps away from the magic chanter and thought about the angle to chop off his head.

The other party remained standing still.

“Why? You’re not summoning those puppets that’s all show but no bite anymore?”

“There’s no need.”

The other party replied calmly, and his voice was much hoarser than before.

“There’s no need?”

“Everything that can be verified through you has been done.”

Psoriasis sneered and prepared to walk over and chop off his stubborn head, but just as it tried to take a step, it discovered that it couldn’t lift its foot at all.

It lowered its head, and a dark quagmire appeared under its feet. Countless pale hands reached out and grabbed it, constantly pulling it in.

“Didn’t you ask why I didn’t just kill your contractor and get you to scram back to the Moon Realm?”

Just as Psoriasis was struggling to break free, the white-haired, silver-eyed magic chanter walked in front of it and looked down at Psoriasis, who had half its body pulled into the dark quagmire.

“I’ve already told your contractor, and I’ll tell you again—both of you will die today.”